


be mine (i love you, i worry about you, ok?)

by euphoricland



Category: ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Introspection, M/M, Pre-Idol, Pre-Relationship, Shyness, Slow Burn, misplaced feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:14:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26574340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphoricland/pseuds/euphoricland
Summary: “I think he would be a good friend for Giwook to have.”Youngjo makes a noise of agreement and it’s with that that Yonghoon feels safe approaching the younger.  In his own little corner, little room quickly filling with stuffed animals, all sorts of colorful knick knacks, artifacts, little plastic reminders of their days together.“Giwook-ah,” Yonghoon starts as he shuffles closer, door shut behind him, “I’ve been thinking…”“We’re not getting matching outfits,” Giwook says right away, Yonghoon notes he doesn’t even have the decency to look at him as he rejects him.“Ah,” Yonghoon puts his hands up in fake surrender, “no not that, something else.”
Relationships: Jin Yonghoon/Kim Geonhak | Leedo
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37
Collections: WEUS Harvest Moon Fest





	be mine (i love you, i worry about you, ok?)

**Author's Note:**

> This is for prompt number #128:
> 
> __
>
>> _Yonghoon and Geonhak both have feelings for the other but both believe the other hasn't really shown interest beyond friendship. YH worries about making GH uncomfortable since he's so shy. He'd rather be able to still be someone trustworthy and a friend than ruin it all with his one-sided feelings. GH doesn't want to be the one rejected in case he's been reading the situation wrong especially since last time he confessed the trainee turned his back on GH and he ended up leaving the company. Basically two panicked gays trying to not give away their feelings which cause more misunderstanding._
> 
> Although this is only the first part, it can be read as a stand alone as well! There will be more parts coming once the fest is over! As the story progresses the rating will change to reflect that :)
> 
> PS. Although I am sure we all know the weus lore at this point, some points in this fic are a bit out of place, they're minor but I thought I should mention it!

His legs are too long, Yonghoon decides, sitting, cramped, in Youngjo's little studio. It's only been a couple of weeks since the company had given them the little studios. Giwook and Hyungu bowing deeply alongside Youngjo when they were presented with them. 

Even so, Youngjo has managed to crowd it already. Yonghoon's eyes scan the desk, shiny, polished wood, computer set up, chrome microphone loose. 

Youngjo doesn't say anything for a bit. He's not really working on anything either. He types on his phone rapidly. Keystrokes that elicit a sense or urgency, nervous energy. 

"Youngjo-ah," Yonghoon finally calls for his attention, smiling at him, wide, friendly, always edging on teasing, "why did you ask me to come in here for? To watch you text?"

Youngjo turns to look at him, eyes fleeting as they go back to his phone screen, biting down on his bottom lip to suppress his own teasing grin.

“Well, do you know how to text? Hyung?” 

Yonghoon’s laugh escapes him before he can even pretend he’s been upset by the joke. Like everything he is, it’s loud and too big for the small room he’s been stuffed into.

“I guess you can teach me how,” Yonghoon says, words pushed forward by his giggles, “another thing you can teach your hyung, right?”

Youngjo doesn’t answer him, and Yonghoon takes this as his chance to keep pushing, “our little Youngjo so good at everything, will you please teach hyung?”

Youngjo rolls his eyes but Yonghoon doesn’t even get a chance to pout before Youngjo’s arms reach out to him, wrapping him easily, pulling him in, until their shoulders collide and Yonghoon can smell the sharpness of Youngjo’s body wash, the flowery aftermath of the hair product in his hair.

Yonghoon’s eyes flicker to Youngjo’s phone, still open to a conversation. Yonghoon pretends not to see the lines of text, too nice to pry, but he can’t overlook the image Youngjo had sent, to whoever was on the other side of their conversation.

“New trainees,” Yonghoon says without thinking, eyes stuck on the flyer their company had pushed on to their twitter. 

Yonghoon remembers reading the requirements, _male trainees with experience preferred_.

Youngjo locks his phone, smiles at him as he nods, “yeah…”

He trails off and Yonghoon goes quiet. There’s a lot of things he wants to say. He knows the uncertainty of all of this, wonders if Youngjo is feeling easily replaceable, unsure. 

Yonghoon smiles, he knows he looks stupid, with his wide smile, cheeks pushing up into his eyes, “you’re one of kind, Youngjo,” he says. 

It’s easy and effortlessly.

Yonghoon truly believes it. He hopes Youngjo believes it too.

“Thanks, hyung,” Youngjo smiles back at him, his arm tightens around Yonghoon and they both laugh. It’s nervous and stuttering but they’re both holding on to it, holding on to whatever it is they have been promised.

“You too,” Youngjo tacks on.

Yonghoon feels strangely like crying. It crawls up his throat, a thick feeling that coats the back of his mouth, feels heavy in his chest.

“Crybaby hyung,” Youngjo sing songs and Yonghoon manages a laugh.

“Thanks,” Yonghoon finally says, presses the line of his palm to his eyes, presses hard until the tears go away, “let’s go eat, I’ll treat.”

-

Trainee life is weird.

Yonghoon supposes nothing much is different.

The uncertainty of the industry is still there, just rearranged.

They have Dongmyeong back, after all their months apart. Yonghoon missed the loud laughter, the cheerful responses from the younger. 

They all take it their own way.

Giwook holds on a little tighter but Yonghoon knows it won’t be long before it goes back to the annoyed eye rolls, playfully grimacing faces as Dongmyeong attempts to set a kiss on the youngest’s cheek.

They’ve been reunited, separated and brought together again. Dongmyeong comes back to them every single time and Yonghoon can’t help but wonder how someone can be so loyal, how someone like Dongmyeong, still young, can forgo his obviously blooming popularity and decide to go back to them. Back to the start.

He is thankful, to the youngest, like he always is to the rest of the band, that he does come back, that they mean so much more to him than whatever idol life could give him.

Yonghoon, who knows the desperation of it, the stomach lurching feeling of being dropped, being left behind, being alone, doesn’t know if he would be that strong, if he could come back every single time.

He watches when they eat dinner, in their tiny dorm room, crowded around their small table. The way they just seem so bright, a flickering flame, Yonghoon can’t ever tell what’s going to happen. He waits with bated breath, _will it extinguish?_

-

It’s a different kind of familiarity when he sees Dongju. _Misplaced_ , is the first thing Yonghoon thinks of. He's smiling, Dongju is nervous. The kind of nervous he rarely ever is. There isn’t the same burst of energy, the commanding attitude he had when he would follow along with them, voice urgent, stable, certain as he spoke to show organizers, checking their set up, equipment, with a practice eased that Yonghoon would have wished he had at his age.

Dongju lets himself be cornered, huddled by his older brother. Dongmyeong who offers a wide smile, soft hands pushing back stray strands of hair, trailing down to cup gently at Dongju’s cheek.

Dongju would have slapped it away at this point, Yonghoon thinks, voice whining as he pushed Dongmyeong away.

Now, watching them, it feels intimate, even after all this time, after more or less taking care of them as they travelled to performances, it feels like he doesn’t really belong there.

He looks away, turns around, gaze meeting with Youngjo who pushes his way into the hallway. Yonghoon’s eyes trail to his arm, how it links with another. They stumble and Youngjo makes the effort to right himself, the other body crashing against his.

The other boy is large. He isn’t anywhere near Yonghoon’s height, but Yonghoon is starting to learn, after months of being the tallest thing in the company, that most people aren’t. 

He looks on, realizes that the other does just the same thing he does. The awkward, self-conscious need to be smaller. Body tilted, crouched, folded in ways to appear _less_ , approachable.

He stares for way too long, it’s caught when small eyes flicker to look at him, short bangs barely falling over the boy’s eyebrows.

Yonghoon stares, tracing the slim line of his nose, the tiniest curves of his lips, steeping cheekbones.

-

Yonghoon crowds the rest of the kids into RBW Boyz’ dorm room. It’s just a bit bigger but with two new people it feels suffocating.

It’s not a celebration, it’s not a big happy moment.

It’s a quiet ordeal.

Yonghoon listens as they introduce themselves quietly. He smiles when Dongju bows, looks away to give Geonhak privacy when it’s his turn.

It’s new. 

Yonghoon thinks, it’s new in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Like the feeling of trying to jam a puzzle piece he knows just belongs, is just almost the right shape, but he can’t make fit.

He introduces the band, the words must make Dongju think of their old times. But when Yonghoon offers his greeting, his gaze goes up, feels the way Geonhak’s eyes settle on the curve of his back.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, offers the easiest smile he can. 

Geonhak’s hand in his is rough. Not unlike Giwook’s or Hyungu’s. But it startles him, just the same. 

His own hands are soft, the hands of a cherished son, he thinks. The hands of someone pushed up front, showcased, something to look at.

Geonhak’s hands are dry, cold, they grip Yonghoon’s hands, walking a line between too tight and _sorry_.

-

Yonghoon thinks a lot about the first time they met. The lingering gaze between each other, Youngjo’s arm linked with Geonhak’s.

There’s history.

Yonghoon knows as much.

It’s the biggest non-secret between them all.

But it’s still something private, and even when Youngjo tells him the story of him, of Geonhak, he knows he’s missing parts. 

Knows there’s more that he would never be privy to. 

It’s the way Geonhak’s smile had spread, uncontrolled when he had his first Vlive as Kim Geonhak from RBW Boyz. Eyes nervous, meeting Youngjo’s own steady gaze. The relieved curve, settling on his lips, small mouth showing way too much emotion. Before he bites it down and Yonghoon is listening to his introduction, to the fans they have amassed over the last couple of months.

He holds his phone in one hand, the other cradling a pencil, scratching lyrics against the paper of his notebook.

Kim Geonhak’s voice is deep. Low. It’s nothing like his own. A voice that Hyungu and Giwook write bubbly, soft, yearning lyrics to.

There’s a lot of things about Geonhak that are known, just as many that Yonghoon still hasn’t been given the chance to know.

In behind shows, the waiting room, their make up shuffle.

The cramped feeling of eleven people all too big for just one place, he sees Geonhak. 

He’s shy, Yonghoon learns right away. 

Unlike Youngjo, or Keonhee, or even himself.

He tries so hard to not be there. To be filler, to disengage.

It’s painful for him to watch. Watch the way he flinches away from attention, how he speaks so quietly, as if afraid to scare anyone away.

He changes behind closed doors, quickly slips on his change of outfit before anyone can see him but all this does is make Yonghoon want to know more, want to know _why_.

He catches the smallest of glimpses when Geonhak is rushing, not too careful. 

Yonghoon is careful with his looking, he’s not staring, just curious.

They don’t spend a lot of time together, between both groups, but just enough to leave Yonghoon intrigued. Urging him to ask Youngjo when they are alone, in his small little studio.

He’s really good at pretending, Yonghoon thinks to himself, asking questions in a way that makes it sound like he’s the messenger, not at all invested in his answers.

“I think he and Giwook would get along pretty well,” he says, sitting next to Youngjo, watching the lines of his mixing program, eyes unfocused, “new voice.”

Youngjo doesn’t turn to look at him, his own eyes stuck on the screen of his computer.

“Geonhak is shy,” he says, flat, “he’s not really good with new people.”

Yonghoon files that away, alongside other small bits of information he’s managed to gather on the younger. 

_Ex-YG trainee_

_Athletic_

_Dancer_

_Shy_

“So is Wookie-ah,” he sighs, mind temporarily forgetting his Geonhak mission, thinking about his band member instead, “I think he would be a good friend for Giwook to have.”

Youngjo makes a noise of agreement and it’s with that that Yonghoon feels safe approaching the younger. In his own little corner, little room quickly filling with stuffed animals, all sorts of colorful knick knacks, artifacts, little plastic reminders of their days together.

“Giwook-ah,” Yonghoon starts as he shuffles closer, door shut behind him, “I’ve been thinking…”

“We’re not getting matching outfits,” Giwook says right away, Yonghoon notes he doesn’t even have the decency to look at him as he rejects him.

“Ah,” Yonghoon puts his hands up in fake surrender, “no not that, something else.”

Giwook finally has the manners to look at him, and Yonghoon, like the giant Giwook fan that he is, smiles as soon as their eyes meet.

“Ah, Giwook-ah so cute,” he starts to tease and Giwook’s eyes turn a bit hard, squinting at him before he sighs.

“Hyung,” he drags out the word, a complaint for whatever Yonghoon may be scheming.

“Giwook-ah,” Yonghoon starts over, remembers his plan, “Giwook-ah, I have an idea.”

-

He think’s he’s subtle. Watching from the mirror as Giwook approaches the other. 

Geonhak is still in his own clothes, hair still not made. Giwook’s own hair is neat, make up and clothing ready to go.

Geonhak’s expression is hard to read.

When Giwook taps his shoulder, he turns around to look at the youngest.

Giwook says something. 

He can’t meet Geonhak’s eyes and Yonghoon thinks that _yes_ , they’re a perfect match.

He wonders what Giwook is saying, which words he’s chosen to use.

 _Don’t tell him it was hyung’s idea_ , Yonghoon had stressed, in the van, right after Giwook had told him he was ready to ask the other for help.

“I know, _I know_ , hyung,” Giwook had sounded exasperated, knee jittering as they waited for the others to climb into the van.

He watches now, as Giwook points to something on his phone, and then Geonhak takes it, slowly plugging in his number.

Yonghoon looks away when Geonhak smiles at Giwook, it’s small, it’s the same kind of smile he had during that one Vlive. Watery, wavering, trying hard to be sure.

Giwook returns to him, sits on the empty chair Harin had been occupying, sleeping.

“Hyung, I already have some ideas,” Giwook says as they sit together, excited, “his voice would sound really good with this one beat I’ve been playing with in my head…”

“See, Giwook-ah? Making new friends good,” he laughs, gives a thumbs up. It’s annoying, he knows, but it does its job when Giwook starts to laugh too, not as loud, but earnestly, happy.

“Thanks, hyung,” he says once they’re told to quiet down and Yonghoon nods, pleased.

-

Youngjo looks at him funny, Yonghoon slows down his chewing, looking at Youngjo as he sits across from him, iced coffee in his hand.

“Eating alone?” Youngjo asks, drops his drink on the table, leans forward just a bit, “sad.”

“I like being alone sometimes,” he shrugs, Youngjo looks unconvinced.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he pushes on.

Youngjo takes a sip of his drink, “you five have been living out of each others’ pockets for years now. There’s no way your heart can grow any fonder.”

“I guess you’re right,” Yonghoon grins, slumping in his chair, closing his notebook, “just needed some room...those studios are really too small, my legs couldn’t take it any longer.”

Youngjo snorts, “I’m sure the company wasn’t expecting to have such an overgrown baby in their midst.”

“Whatever,” Yonghoon sticks his tongue out, reaching over to take Youngjo’s drink, “it’s not my fault you are all so small.”

“Hey!” Youngjo immediately reaches for his drink, has no luck as Yonghoon leans back, sticks the straw into his mouth.

“Too sweet,” Yonghoon wrinkles his nose, takes another sip.

“So Giwook and Geonhak, huh?” Youngjo changes the subject, Yonghoon feels something swell in his chest...he can’t place it, settles on something vaguely like _pride_.

“Good match, right?” Yonghoon asks, bites down against the straw, “it took a little coaxing for Giwookie, but I’ve managed it!”

“How long did you bother him about it?” Youngjo laughs, Yonghoon has the thought to look offended.

“I didn’t!” he’s being loud, scandalized, “I merely suggested...maybe he could do something with his voice...something not _me_ , more _experimental_.”

“Well…” Youngjo starts, voice thoughtful, “Geonhak seems to be enjoying his time with Giwook...so good job, hyung.”

He reaches over to give him a pat on his shoulder, Yonghoon leans into the touch.

“It’s good to see him make a new friend,” Yonghoon answers, Youngjo nods.

“Geonhak, too.”

-

Yonghoon should have probably knocked. But it doesn’t really matter now, his hand on the doorknob, his eyes decisively stuck on the way Giwook and Geonhak stick together, shoulders bumping close, hunched over Giwook’s computer.

“Food,” Yonghoon finally says, probably sounds dumb, “Harin went to get it for us...Geonhak-ssi, I didn’t know you were here with Giwook...there probably isn’t enough, give me a moment.”

He’s on the verge of rambling, he places the food on Giwook’s work table, leaves the door just barely open as he rushes to get to the training room, where his own order of food is waiting for him.

“Harinie,” he starts, picking up his food from the floor, “can we split your meal? I’ll promise to make it up to you.”

He’s not so great at being cute, but he knows that for some strange reason Harin finds it endearing when he tries.

“Sure,” he says, easy, “I really should be cutting down my intake anyway.”

“Harin-ah,” he starts automatically, turning back to look at him, “you’re perfect how you are now, really handsome and manly, you don’t need to diet.”

“Thank you, hyung,” Harin answers right away, almost as if they've had this conversation a million times, a practiced ease, “you’re not so bad yourself either.”

Dongmyeong makes a pained sound from the back where he’s playing around with Hyungu and Yonghoon takes that as his cue to go back upstairs.

“Here,” he says, out of breath, bursting through the door, “you can have this.”

He places the carton of food right next to Giwook’s, opens the plastic bag, reaches for the utensils.

“I got your favorite,” he tells the youngest, “and my usual order,” it sounds like an apology, “...Geonhak-ssi,” Geonhak looks him in the eye for a fraction of a second, Yonghoon thinks, _progress_ , “I hope my usual order is ok.”

He’s eating, huddled up next to Harin when he lets his mind wonder.

Dongmyeong is telling some story about one his new idol friends but Yonghoon wonders if everything is going ok up stairs, if Giwook is someone Geonhak can comfortably share a meal with.

He chews his mouthful of rice carefully, considers sending Youngjo a message asking him the same question in his head.

But his thoughts break away when laughter erupts around him, and never one to be left behind he laughs too, ringing between them, his face begins to hurt with it.

-

He’s trapped, he knows this.

The water is cold as it runs from the faucet, soap washed away as he and Geonhak make eye contact. Stilted, uncomfortable.

He watches, in almost horror as Geonhak bows to him, stiff, robotic.

“Yonghoon-”

“Oh my god, wait stop,” he says, turns to face the younger man, hands out, as if trying desperately to reach him, stop him, “don’t do that!”

His voice borders on squeaking, panicked.

Geonhak straightens out, eyes wide, cheeks a faint dusting of peach pink.

“Don’t bow to me,” Yonghoon adds on quickly, “there’s no reason to do that.”

“I -” the word catches in Geonhak’s throat, and it does nothing but make the rush of red darker, rising over his throat.

“Do you bow to Giwook?” Yonghoon asks, tries to kill the silence between them.

Geonhak shakes his head, Yonghoon can tell he’s trying his best to stay there, between Yonghoon and the stalls, “no, we’re friends,” he mumbles and those words spark something in Yonghoon, a challenge.

“Are we not friends too?” he asks and it seems to catch the other off guard, his gaze snapping to look at Yonghoon fully.

It’s the first time Geonhak has looked at him for longer than a second, but it doesn’t last long, head dropping to look at his hands, worrying against each other.

“You are a senior,” Geonhak answers honestly and Yonghoon doesn’t know what to say to that.

He falls back to what he knows best. He laughs, a quiet, soft laugh that edges his lips into a smile, hopes it hides his own uncertainty, the shake in his voice.

“We are both the same,” Yonghoon says, “somehow back at the beginning.”

Geonhak doesn’t respond to that, Yonghoon, ever in his need to make things easy, speaks again.

“Call me hyung, Geonhak-ah.”

-

Nothing really changes after that.

Yonghoon hadn’t really expected it would. They’re getting closer to their concert and it means they spend a lot more time with all eleven of them. But they’re busy and Yonghoon barely has time to be human outside of singing and learning how to dance. 

The rest of the band, takes endless days practicing, rehearsing.

He and Dongmyeong get shoved alongside RBW Boyz. 

It’s hard.

Yonghoon had forgotten how hard it was to pick up choreography, mind making a half hearted attempt to bring back memories from his old company, before he had quit.

He’s sweating and he knows he’s trailing behind.

Yonghoon nearly falls to his knees when the music stops, body screaming at him to give up on moving.

“Hyung,” Youngjo reaches out to him, hand on his shoulder, “do you need help?”

He nods right away, knows that Youngjo would be good to him, take his time and teach him in the most easiest way possible.

“Geonhak,” Youngjo turns to call at the rest of them, huddled by their water bottles, “come help Yonghoon-hyung.”

Yonghoon can’t do anything but look, Geonhak’s eyes meet his and it all becomes a bit disorienting.

He ends up in the next room over. It’s empty, just them two. Geonhak takes his phone out of his pocket, connects it to the speaker in the corner.

“Show me what you have down...hyung,” the last word is stuck on awkwardly but Yonghoon can’t help the smile that spreads across his lips. He nods, listening to the song until it gets to the only part he’s really sure about.

He knows his movements are rigid, he knows his limbs are way too long to look graceful. But he tries as best as he can, under Geonhak’s watchful eyes.

“That was good,” Geonhak says slowly.

Yonghoon, surprised by the shameless lie, breaks into a fit of laughter. It startles Geonhak, who takes a step away, unsure of what to do and Yonghoon tries taking in a deep breath, shuddering.

“You’re really too nice,” Yonghoon says, wheezing, “lying to hyung like that.”

He starts to laugh again and finally, _finally_ he hears the small sound of Geonhak chuckling, and it does something weird to his heart.

 _Strange_ , Yonghoon thinks.

-

He remembers everything he has to do for the concert. All the lyrics, notes, words, dancing. Yonghoon prides himself in a small amount of things, one of them is being able to be a professional when it comes to his performances.

It goes as smoothly as Yonghoon had expected it to go, and then it's finally time for their big stage together. 

Dongju sits next to him, in the dark stage, hands clutching his microphone.

It’s not the place he’s used to taking when it comes to MAS but Dongju holds on, holds his ground.

Yonghoon reaches over to pat his knee, Hyungu gives him a soft smile. Harin counts them off, the crowd starts to cheer and they start.

Dongju sounds so much like Dongmyeong, it’s almost like they’ve done this before, almost but not quite the same. They finish the song together, the lights fade away.

They scramble to reach their next positions and in the darkness, with the new song playing Yonghoon hears the first notes of Geonhak’s voice.

It’s as steady as it can be, but Yonghoon, trained for years, can pick up the uncertainty, nerves, hesitation.

Seoho takes over and the difference is startling, it collides with Yonghoon’s beating heart, a painful echo. A feeling he’s known but no longer can call his own.

And then it fades away, quickly replaced with Giwook’s voice. Yonghoon smiles like an idiot, like he always does when it comes to anything Giwook, then it turns into a grin when he hears Youngjo. From the side of the stage he can see Keonhee and Dongmyeong, bright, cheerful, confident.

He looks to his side, where Geonhak is already waiting by the side.

They don’t really talk, watching as Dongju and Dongmyeong share a cute moment. 

They’re meant to enter together. They hadn’t practiced it beforehand, instead choosing to push it back, until they really couldn't push it away any longer. 

It’s almost time and Yonghoon knows it falls on him, as the oldest.

“Geonhak-ah,” he calls, his arms outstretched, an offering.

Geonhak turns to look at him, then his arm.

Yonghoon is used to rejection, is already thinking of a solution to Geonhak’s denial.

He’s surprised, when Geonhak loops his arm around his, it settles in the crook of Yonghoon’s own arm.

His eyes stay at their connected arms for way too long. They have a concert, they have a queue they have to follow.

He remembers how small Geonhak had look that day of the auditions, arm interlinked with Youngjo’s back then.

“We’re skipping,” he reminds Geonhak, and that’s all he says before he pulls him towards the stage.

Geonhak drops his arm quickly and it’s not long before Yonghoon feels his warmth less and less.

As the song progresses he realizes Geonhak has managed to build a gap between them. _It must be extremely obvious_ Yonghoon thinks.

And of course he can’t let it go.

He starts his slow progress towards, across the space Geonhak has pulled between himself and Yonghoon, the rest of them.

He stretches his arm out in his excitement and finds himself dropping it across Geonhak’s shoulders, pulls him closer until he feels Geonhak’s own arm wrapping around his waist. It’s fleeting and then again there’s a giant gaping space between them.

He’s less subtle this time, he walks over, arm already outstretched, he covers Geonhak easily with his arm, turns him towards himself. Geonhak has no choice but to wrap his arm over Yonghoon again, lets himself be guided back towards the group, he leans into Yonghoon’s body, and then as soon as he can pulls away.

He doesn’t make the same mistake as last time.

This time he stays close.

The song finishes and although it feels like his heart can’t handle it anymore, his body finds Geonhak’s and takes him away from the stage.

It’s difficult and they stumble.

But it’s all fun, boyish, friendly fun.

Hyungu’s taps his back and it’s his reminder. He lets Geonhak go, he doesn’t turn to look at them, knows Youngjo has probably already stepped into his space.

-

It’s late when they drive back to the dorms. The fans had left happy, and Yonghoon thinks that’s all that really matters.

Sleepless nights, aching body, straining vocal chords. He’d gladly give it all up to feel like this every day.

They shouldn’t be eating so late but Harin pushes his way into the kitchen.

Dongmyeong and Giwook are all drummed up in leftover concert energy.

Chatty, loud, _happy_.

“I’ll go get some drinks,” Yonghoon says, ducking to slip on his shoes, pocketing his keys, “anything else?”

“Something sweet,” Giwook demands. Yonghoon complies.

He’s not as surprised as he should be, when he sees Geonhak down the snack aisle, large hands full of snack cakes, colorful bags of candies and gummies.

“Hi,” he says, quiet, trying to keep attention from them.

They aren’t really known, at least Yonghoon isn’t. But something about being six feet tall really gathers people’s attention.

“Hyung,” Geonhak’s voice is rough, tired, “why are you here?”

Yonghoon lifts the basket with the bottles of cola in his hands, tilts his head to look at all the sugar in Geonhak’s hands, “the babies wanted to have a late dinner.”

The song over the radio switches into something much older, Geonhak reaches for a bag of strawberry gummies.

“You?” Yonghoon asks, the silence between them too much.

“A treat,” Geonhak murmurs, “for a job well done with the concert.”

“Your first one,” Yonghoon says, and without much of a word, reaches for Geonhak’s pile of candies, drops them easily in his basket.

Geonhak’s eyes filt to look at him, then the basket, he makes a move for them but Yonghoon shakes his head.

“Hyung will treat you.”

Geonhak stays quiet, Yonghoon looks at the candy on the shelves, reaches for others that seem to fit Geonhak’s tastes, his current selection.

“Hopefully more to come, right Geonhak-ah?”

Geonhak nods.

Yonghoon grabs another bottle, a different flavor for them to try. He knows it’ll please Giwook, alongside his favorite snack cakes.

He pays quickly, asks the cashier to put Geonhak’s things in a different bag.

The spring air is sweet, with the scent of blooming flowers. They walk to the dorm building, until they reach the lobby, up the stairs.

Yonghoon holds on to the bag until they reach Geonhak’s dorm.

“Here,” Yonghoon says, bag rustling, “don’t eat them all in one day, ok?”

It’s quiet, the fluorescent lights of the hallway casts weird shadows over them, washing away the tan of Geonhak’s skin.

“Thank you, hyung.”

And his heart does the weird thing again. 

It misses a beat and then it drops, too heavy, it makes it hard to breathe.

“No, problem, it’s just candy.”

There’s something missing, something Yonghoon refuses to look straight in the eyes.

“Ok, hyung,” Geonhak says, merciful, “thank you.”

He reaches for his keys, unlocks the door.

He sends Yonghoon one last look.

It’s too bad Yonghoon doesn’t know what it means.

He turns to walk towards his own door, when he opens it he’s greeted with the smell of fried food, spices that make his mouth water.

“I love you, Harinie,” Yonghoon proclaims, it rolls off his tongue, too easy, words worn down, thin in their overuse.

It’s a loud ordeal, they joke around, playfully jab at each other.

It’s late by the time they finally head to bed, and Yonghoon is about to just lay down and sleep before Giwook crowds into his bed.

“Here,” Giwook says, dropping a pack of candy on Yonghoon’s stomach, “I don’t think these are meant for me,” he says, “I didn’t know you liked strawberry candy, hyung.”

“Thanks, Wookie,” he says slowly, grabbing the candy, turning it over in his hand, thinks of Geonhak, before sticking it under his pillow, like a secret he wants to keep for himself, “let’s sleep now, it’s late.”

The lights go off and just as he’s about to close his eyes, his phone vibrates. He reaches for it, sees the unknown number on the screen.

_This is Geonhak._

_I just wanted to say thank you, again._

_For the candy._

_Sleep well, hyung._

Yonghoon feels sleep drain from him, if only for the moment it takes him to send a message back.

_You deserve it, Geonhak-ah._

He saves the number as _RBW Boyz Kim Geonhak_.

**Author's Note:**

> I really like this pair together, I hope that this was enjoyable to all who have read it as it was enjoyable for me to write!


End file.
